


Parallels

by virusq



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: Shattered Empire
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Force Persuasion, Gen, Minor Character Death, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virusq/pseuds/virusq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some children of the New Republic become heroes; some become monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Poe Dameron is eight years old when his mother dies. 

He stands at the end of the funeral procession in a rigid imitation of a military stance, staving off a well of tears by clasping his hands white-knuckled behind his back. The individuals gathered for his mother are New Republic officials, pressed for time and happiness; but their presence cements his mother’s convictions to the New Republic. In his mind, they’re family. 

A blue skinned Rodian speaks about what a brave and caring individual Shara Bey had been, and finality of the words crushes Poe’s chest. He bites his lip to fight back the tears.

There’s another boy in the crowd; younger than him, but just as tall. His hair is a tousled mess of black curls and his clothes suggest he lives out of a go-bag. He meets Poe’s eyes and Poe recognizes the expression, but can’t quite place it. The boy’s stare feels invasive and _wrong_.

After the speakers have said their piece, the boy approaches with his family. Poe recognizes General Organa and General Solo; he isn’t quite sure about their son Ben. Leia extends a hand, and then a hug, to Poe’s grandfather while General Solo shifts uncomfortably in his boots.

Ben is quiet and immovable, dark eyes piercing. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he says to Poe, with all the weight and depth of a priest.

“Thank you,” Poe responds as confidently as the situation affords.

“It’s okay to cry.” The boy states expectantly. “You’re sad.”

Poe sniffs back a stray tear and reaches for the biggest lie he can muster. “I’m not sad.”

Ben takes his hand, pale against his own bronze skin. The touch feels colder than Poe expects. His unclasped fingers tingle with resumed circulation, laced with a creeping ache he can’t comprehend. His instincts tell him to jerk away from the contact, but he doesn’t; he _can’t_. 

The unexpected break in concentration shatters his facade; he’s overwhelmed by how sad he is, by the thought that his mom won’t be home for dinner, by the thought that his mom will never tease his hair again, by the fear that he won’t be able to fly without his mom, by the fear that he’ll never be as good of a pilot as Anakin Skywalker --

“Feelings make you strong.”

An awkward hug breaks the trance; the void of ice and pain shatters and a more familiar warmth and youthful encouragement fills its place. 

Poe sobs into Ben’s shoulder and no one interrupts them.


	2. Chapter 2

The Force calls to Ben. 

He knows he should stay with his parents while they’re officiating on Yavin-4, but he can’t sleep. The Force tickles his neck like a whisper and he can’t quite make out the words.

If he’s not entirely distracted, he can make out actual shapes and emotions through the Force. Sometimes it speaks. But here, in the thick of the forest, through all the insect buzzing and fauna chatter, _it sings_.

His parents are too busy to see him slip through the door, his smuggler footfalls too silent to alert the family droids. 

The singing leads him through the warm summer evening, and straight to a copse of trees which is already occupied by a huddled mass of exhaustion and sorrow: the boy from the funeral, Poe Dameron.

Ben calls out to Poe, as he draws closer, acutely aware he’s interrupting a private moment when the boy startles. Poe wipes his face on his sleeve in an attempt to compose himself, but loses steam when recognition hits.

Poe sniffs. “What are you doing here?”

Drawn to the thrumming trees, Ben reaches out and hangs from a branch. Dangling, he replies. “I like your song.”

“I wasn’t…” Poe hesitates, mulling the statement over; his confusion is tangible. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh.” Ben furrows his brow, then hooks his knees into the branch and hangs upside-down for a better perspective. His mother told him that not everyone could see and hear what he could. “Why not?”

“Because there isn’t a song?” Poe justifies, frustrated. “Stop being weird.”

“You can’t hear it?” Ben stares at him, disbelieving. The Force is deafening under the trees. They’re definitely singing. “Listen harder.”

Poe groans. “Get down.”

“Listeeen.” Ben drones.

“Okay. Okay.” Poe clamps his eyes shut. “I’m listening.”

Ben can feel Poe’s impatience. It roils off of him in waves, tinged with ache and despair. He’s lost, to himself and the universe, and he’s drowning out the music.

“I’m not…”

“Shh.”

“This is…”

“Stop fighting and _listen_.”

Poe huffs, but his anger subsides. Ben listens to his breathing as it slows. And something sparks.

Poe’s eyes pop open and search Ben for understanding. “What is that?”

Ben flails excitedly and drops from the branch to Poe’s side. “Listen!”

Ben watches Poe shut his eyes again and listen. They both sit still as jackrabs, barely breathing in case the movement shatters the illusion. Color returns to Poe’s cheeks, fading the tear stains, as he starts to smile.

Ben beams as Poe sits up and taps his hands against the tree, drumming the imaginary tune.

And then Poe stops, smile slipping.

“What?” Ben asks, confused by Poe’s absolute stubbornness to have any fun.

“It’s mom’s song.” Poe stares into the canopy, searching. ”Can she hear it?”

Ben fidgets with a twig for a moment. It’s a dumb question: anyone with an ounce of Force sensitivity can practically feel the trees dancing. With absolute conviction, he answers: “Yes.”

Poe tilts his head at him. “How do you know?”

Because the Force binds all living things. Because the trees are so happy. Because the song is so loud. Because your mom will always be part of you. Because that’s how the Force works.

Because grandpa said so.

He shrugs. “Because.”

Poe rolls his eyes and deflates next to his newfound friend. “You’re so weird.”

Ben giggles.


End file.
